Chapter 150: This Matter Is Still More Practical

Yukihiko Tsutsumi, who was talking face-to-face with Aozora, could never have imagined that within the span of just those few brief exchanges, Aozora had not only set such an "impossibly lofty goal" for himself, but was already conceptualizing his next film.

Yet, even if he had known, he most likely would have simply smiled. Because no matter how seemingly impractical Aozora's actions might appear, no one had the right to dictate the course of his life.

Just as even if he were to fail, no one else could share that burden with him.

Was Aozora afraid of failure? Although he wanted to say a categorical no, the words "not afraid" lingered on the tip of his tongue for a moment before he swallowed them back down. Of course he was afraid of failure; no one liked to fail. It was simply that, to him, no matter how catastrophic the failure might be, it would never truly knock him back to the destitution of the days when he had first transmigrated and possessed nothing.

Perhaps it was precisely because his starting point had been so low that his tolerance for failure was higher than anyone else's, and because of this, he so often engaged in seemingly reckless behavior.

When an idea comes to mind, act on it immediately—this was a timeless truth passed down by our ancestors.

The next day, August 22nd, marked the official release of the single "A Singer's Love Song." However, on this day, Aozora neither participated in the recording of any music programs nor felt anxious about the single's chart performance... Instead, he had an appointment for an aptitude test at Yoyogi Seminar, one of Japan's premier preparatory cram schools.

Compared to his ambitions of making movies or producing audio dramas, when he announced his intention to take the university entrance examinations, Takeda Shun—who had recently been constantly reprimanding him for acting rashly—uncharacteristically raised no objections. Even upon hearing that his target was a top-tier prestigious institution like the Faculty of Letters at Keio University, Takeda did not look at him as if he were a fool, but instead offered considerable support.

"Regardless of your reasons, being able to think about pursuing education when you already possess so much is something worth supporting."

"Then my filmmaking and audio drama production are also forms of education... it's just that the tuition is a bit steep," Aozora did not forget to seize the opportunity to bargain with him and salvage a bit of his own image.

Takeda Shun shook his head. "As far as feasibility goes, I still think taking the university entrance exams is much more pragmatic."

"..."

The preparatory schools boasted the highest admission rates for the University of Tokyo, and naturally, their tuition fees were the most exorbitant among all cram schools. Of course, the original Aozora had not studied at this particular cram school, but he hadn't attended some nameless, obscure academy either; rather, he had gone to another equally renowned prep school known as Kawaijuku.

Most enrolled students came to cram classes primarily after school hours. In addition to them, the cram school also housed students who had failed the previous year's entrance exams—just like the original Aozora—so even during the daytime, the place was not as quiet as one might imagine.

Passing by the classrooms and glancing inside through the doorways, Aozora felt a slight jolt of shock at the sight of students who had failed previous exams frantically grinding through practice problems in rooms that could hold dozens of people. As expected, the examination-oriented education system was much the same in any country.

Although Japanese students didn't experience the surreal horror of being buried beneath literal mountains of test papers at regular schools, the combined stack of workbooks they completed at cram schools would easily equal their own height in height.

The one-on-one tutoring that Saya Kudo received in *Flying Colors* was the most expensive among all cram school methods, a fact made abundantly clear by the thick stack of banknotes her mother handed over. For ordinary students, however, most still opted for the more economical large classes of several dozen people.

Yet the private tutoring Aozora was about to undertake was even more expensive than Saya Kudo's.

Before officially beginning his preparatory lessons, the cram school required Aozora to undergo a baseline aptitude test to gauge the level of his so-called deviation value. While this deviation value was useful for targeted school selection, it also ruthlessly classified students into rigid hierarchies using cold numbers. An excessively low deviation value was tantamount to bluntly telling others that you were hopeless.

From that perspective, such a metric was terribly cruel.

The average admission deviation value for Keio University was 70, while the deviation value calculated for Aozora by the cram school's teachers came out to 61. Judging from these figures, aiming for Keio was a relatively realistic objective.

However, as someone targeting the Faculty of Letters, Aozora was slightly weak in the composition and essay sections, which were heavily weighted by Keio's literature department. The only comforting aspect was that his English was reasonably decent.

"Don't worry, this little gap can definitely be bridged with hard work," the cram school instructor encouraged him.

Aozora nodded without speaking. In his heart, he thought that in learning, going from 50 points to 60 points was easy, whereas going from 80 points to 90 points became immensely difficult. The deviation value was no different; although it seemingly lacked a mere 9 points to reach 70, trying to catch up demanded a level of difficulty akin to improving from 90 to 100 points.

While the deviation value was important, at the end of the day, it was merely a reference point. To truly gain admission to the prestigious school of his dreams, he had to seize every available moment to study diligently. Especially with the Faculty of Letters as his target, extensive reading and regular practice writing short essays and research papers were indispensable.

...

"Things are going to get very tough from here on out," Yuki Kamimura remarked with some apprehension after leaving the prep school and accompanying Aozora as his schedule was finalized. "The movie is still in production, and you have a new album and concerts coming up. I worry whether Aozora-san's physical stamina can handle it."

"Don't worry, I'm not that delicate," Aozora said with a smile. "Besides, for some reason, hearing you list out my upcoming schedule like this suddenly gives me a profound sense of fulfillment."

"Actually, would it be possible to push it back another year and take the university exams the year after next?"

Aozora wagged his index finger. "That's where you're wrong. If I don't push hard now, when my momentum is at its peak, I will never succeed. While playing the long game offers more breathing room, it gradually chips away at one's fighting spirit."

"Still, though it might be inappropriate to say this now, if you fail the exams because time is too rushed..."

"We'll talk about failing when it actually happens," Aozora replied with a tranquil expression. "Even if I really fail, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I've already failed once before anyway."

...

Ever since he had last listened to the demo vocals recorded for Kazuyo Kawabata up until now, although he occasionally exchanged phone calls with her to check on her lessons and recording progress, his absolute trust in her combined with his own frantic schedule meant Aozora hadn't met with her again, let alone gone down to supervise her sessions in the recording booth.

From that standpoint, he could hardly be considered a conscientious producer.

Today, however, after leaving the preparatory school, when Yuki Kamimura asked him whether they were heading to the movie set or somewhere else, Aozora thought for a moment and replied, "Let's go to the Sony recording studio and see Ms. Kawabata."